Picking Up Where We Left Off
by Avenging Alexis
Summary: The battle is over and the new world order in place, but will Clary and Jace find peace back in New York, or is something sinester waiting in the wings to resurface and reap havoc on their lives yet again?
1. Chapter 1:Uncertainty

**A/N This is a revamped version of an old story. I recently went through and decided I wanted to change some things. If you are a reader that was following this story, I am SO sorry! But I am starting over, and it appears that you are going to be re-reading some old material… I like the format that I currently have now, and there are things that didn't make much sense to the original timeline of the books… Chronologically, this version fits better. Thanks so much for all your support. Updates will be more scheduled than before, so no worries! We will get to back to the point we were at before you know it! **

**~AA**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the mortal instruments (*Sigh*). If I did, would I be here? No. **

**~o.O.o~**

Clary was ready to go home. Back to New York. She was contemplating a hot pizza and a long bath, and then sleeping for a week. Though she knew that she would miss the city of Alicante, its gleaming towers of glass and the beautiful old houses, she was ready to start her new life. Really start it, the way she should have been raised. It couldn't help that the majority of her time in Idris was spent fighting, hallucinating from the waters of Lake Lyn, or crying over those she had lost. The funerals were over, negotiations in full swing. The streets had been cleaned of any evidence of the demon invasion, and the beauty and tranquility of the city had been returned. But it still was not home. Not to Clary. She would miss the grandiose of the place, but she couldn't wait to leave.

"You know, I'm going to miss this when I'm gone," said Jace, echoing her thoughts, "but I'll be glad to get back to a normal life." Clary suppressed a laugh. When had Jace's life ever been normal? But then he was raised a shadowhunter. And just as much as it was in his blood, she knew it was in hers too.

They continued to pack up their things. Clary's bag was light, only containing her new gear, of soft black leather, her stele, and a sketch pad. She was itching to draw something from the glass city before she left, but to draw something was to capture it forever and never let it change. Something about drawing Alicante while so many things were changing now seemed wrong. This was a time of revolution. All the Downworders had picked their senators for the seats at the Clave council. She thought of Luke, and how he turned down the opportunity to be a part of the Clave again. The opportunity to represent his pack, and all other Lycanthropes as a part of a new order. To be a part of the new world order that he so desperately envisioned as a younger man, and to back into the fold of the Conclave. But to everyone's surprise, he refused to walk back into the open arms of the counsel. Instead he had decided to go back to New York with them and resume his old life, though with some new changes of course. Everyone was delighted to hear that Jocelyn had finally agreed to take his hand in marriage. Clary, when thinking about all these changes, smiled to herself.

Jace came up behind her and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She turned her head to look up into his golden eyes. She automatically relaxed into him, already a reflex. Her eyes drooped ever so slightly as she heaved a content sigh. He stroked her cheek, and she thought vaguely that this was also a wonderful change. She could let herself feel what she had been trying to suppress since the day Valentine had lied about his parentage. She still felt a rush of relief every time she remembered that he was not her brother. That they could be together and not have her entire family disgusted with her.

"I love you," she whispered up to him. She turned in his arms so that she could see him better, and wrapped her arms around his neck, tracing the lines of his scars, and looking into his eyes.

"I know. How could you resist all this," He replied, glancing down his torso. Clary went to smack the back of his head, which he dodged, but smiled in earnest. He was still the pompous narcissist he always was, but he was hers. Standing on her tip toes she leaned in for a kiss. Their lips had barely brushed, when the door burst open with a bang, making Clary squeak. The pair sprung apart, a residual habit from months of trying to hide how they really felt. "God, Simon! Don't you ever knock before you enter a room!" Clary yelled throwing a pillow at him. From the corner of her eye she saw Jace tuck something into his back pocket, but let the thought go as Simon smiled with his incisors, making Clary think how alien Downworlders could seem at times, even Simon.

"I knew you hadn't done anything that would embarrass you too much," he said with a chuckle. "Vampire hearing, remember? I needed to get some things out of this room before it became too inappropriate to walk in here." Clary glared at Simon, thinking offhandedly that she out to have thrown something heavier at him, but he was in and out of the room before she could say so.

"He really should knock…" said Jace, shifting his weight unevenly. He looked sheepishly at Clary and reached behind him, into the back pocket. He pulled out a small dagger, made of curving steel with runes of true aim and swiftness engraved on it.

"Ha!" Clary laughed. "I was thinking I needed something heavier to throw at him." She giggled once more and abruptly stopped, seeing the look on Jace's face. "What's wrong?" she asked in worried tone. She was surprised at how much her voice had gone up in pitch, almost squeaking with worry.

Jace shifted his weight again looking slightly ashamed. "Don't laugh, ok?" he said looking at Clary with pleading eyes. "The thing is that I might have killed Simon-" He stopped at the incredulous look Clary gave him and put up his hands to tell her to calm down. "That came out wrong. I wouldn't have killed him on purpose. I'm just a little on edge…" He let his voice trail off, his mind going elsewhere. He thought vaguely how he had ruined a perfectly beautiful moment with his senseless worries. He looked back at Clary, whose look was that of sheer confusion.

"What's there to be worried about?" she asked, her voice cracking. Jace could practically see the tears threatening to leak from behind her eyes, as she concerned herself with his unhappiness.

"It's probably nothing…" he said, but when he looked at her, he could see the flush of her cheeks and the twitch of her lip, as her mind went through god knows what kind of scenarios. "It's just that they never found Sebas- Jonathon's body. I just have this feeling that he's not dead and that any minute he's going to exact his revenge or something." Jace felt his face furrow into a frown and thought that maybe he was just being paranoid.

It was a moment before Clary spoke, but to his relief she nodded her head as though she understood what he meant. "I wondered about that myself. There are a number of possible explanations. His body really could have drifted down the river-"

"No," Jace cut in. "His body was a good twenty feet from the water's edge when I stabbed him."

Clary looked at him knowingly and continued. "Or, being part demon, he may have folded in on himself and returned to the dimension of his blood donor or whatever you want to call that greater demon…" Clary paused. Jace looked at her face as she deliberated saying one last thing, and as soon as she said what she was thinking, he knew why she had debated opening her mouth… Because it wouldn't make him feel any better. "Or maybe," she said, "he wasn't human enough to die."

Jace sighed and bowed his head, rubbing his temple. He knew that it was a possibility, but hearing someone else say it made it seem somehow more definite. He kissed the top of her head, and pulled her into a tight hug. They had been through so much. He knew that he would do it all again if he had to, but in truth, he had hoped it was all over. The cleanup of the city had taken months. Rather than returning to New York straight away they had all elected to stay behind and help with the repairs of the city. They worked continuously though all that time, barely resting until life in Alicante seemed to be returning to business as usual. Though he missed his life in New York, Jace was secretly glad to stay behind with the others. He kept hoping that he would hear something, _anything_, about the disappearance of Jonathan's body. But as the months passed, nothing came up. And instead of making him feel reassured of his death, the uneasiness about the lack of body began to grow. Knowing in his heart that this battle wasn't over had put a kind of urgency into the back of his mind. He kept thinking about all the important things he hadn't yet done, like take Clary out on a demon free date, or buy her something special just because he saw it and thought of her, _and,_ whispered the back of his mind, _asked her to marry me_. He then thought about his family and what he had to tell them- how talented he thought Isabelle was, and how much he appreciated Alec for being his best friend, and the gratitude of his parents. _Yes,_ he thought. _ My_ parents. He had never known that he could love, and be loved as much as he had been. He knew that in that final moment, that last battle with Sebastian (he couldn't bring himself to think of him as Jonathan even now), he knew that he might lose. He would have to train. And while he trained he would have to make some effort to do all of those things, before it was too late.

"It's ok. It's all going to be ok," said Clary in his ear. She kissed his ear and then his cheek, and slowly moved to kiss his mouth. As if she were thinking his same thoughts, her kiss became as urgent as his own, and she clung to him, as if she was afraid he might disappear at any moment. As hard as Clary was clinging to him, he knew he was holding her so much tighter and clinging back. Fleetingly he wondered if she could breathe, but then decided that he would make it his goal to make every kiss take her breath away. Every moment counted, and he knew it. His new beginning might be doomed to end, before it had barely even started and he would do anything to make whatever time he had left as memorable as possible.

**~o.O.o~**

Clary was dressed in the same shirt and jeans she had come to Idris in. They were both beginning to look the worse for wear. There were dried blood stains on the shoulder from where valentine had cut her cheek and the blood had dripped. There was a small hole in the bottom hem that had gotten there when glass had caught her through the window Jace had dropped her out of at Wayland manner. Mud was smeared across the back where Jace had picked her up at Lake Lyn, trying to wake her. Residual grime was inlaid into the denim of her pants from the three months or rebuilding. Despite all of its tatteredness though, she thought that she couldn't get rid of the clothes anymore than she could get rid of the stains. It was full of reminders. Though most of them weren't in the least bit pleasant, they were important to remember. A part of her history. At least it smelled clean, even if it didn't look it. Amatis tried for hours to wash out the grime, but eventually gave up, and handed Clary her shirt, soft and worn, and smelling of lemon soap. She stood at the portal gate with Jace, Isabelle, Alec and the rest of the Lightwoods, as well as her own family, Luke and her mother. Amatis was talking with Luke and Jocelyn about wedding arrangements and whether they would come back to Alicante for the ceremony or do it in New York. Jace's thumb lightly stroked her palm and she turned to find him staring at her.

"I was thinking," he said, "That maybe when we get back to New York we should do some training and then go out for dinner and a movie." He raised an eyebrow as if asking if this sounded like a suitable plan, but Clary shook her head. "Why not?" he said taking a half step back and staring at her wide eyed as if he had never seen her before.

Clary smiled a little to herself as she beckoned him to lean in closer so she could tell him a secret. "Because, my plan is better," she said simply.

"And what makes it so much better?" asked Jace. Clary could see that he was getting annoyed as she pushed his buttons, but for once she had the upper hand. In a very Jace like way, she cocked her head to the side and smiled a dangerous grin.

"Because my plan involves staying inside for a week." Jace _humphed _and turned his head away and then turned back to her with a slightly angry expression with his mouth opened as if he was about to say something- and then stopped. Clary was still grinning and when he saw the mischievous wink she passed him, his expression turned from anger to "Ohhhh." He bent his head close to hers and began whispering things about washing those hard to reach spots for her, when the portal burst to life, showering everyone with a momentary spray of blue sparks.

"Lightwoods!" called Magnus and ushered the dark haired family forward with Jace. Instantly, Clary felt her face fall. Jace was going back to the institute and she, her mother, and Luke were going back to the book shop. Jace, without hesitation walked over to Maryse and said that he wanted to make sure Clary got home safely, and then walked straight back to her side. It still amazed Clary that Jace talked to his parents as if it were two adults talking, rather than mother and son. Alec Who had a similar look on his face turned to say good-bye to Magnus, only to be kissed full on the mouth before he could say a word. Robert lightwood cleared his throat, breaking the two apart and looked at his sons, both with the people they loved and looked to Jocelyn and Luke.

"Jocelyn," he said, "I think it may well be time that we sit down and talk about some new living arrangements for our children. They are almost adults now. Some of them already are." He turned to Alec and cupped his shoulder. He spoke as if he was talking to Alec, but the intent was there to ease the crease that had formed above Jocelyn's brow. "There comes a time when children become adults and we must no longer keep them to ourselves, despite what would make us happy. For now it is not about our happiness, but theirs." The eldest Lightwood was not a man of many words, but Clary had to give it to him- when he did speak, it was always full of emotion and meaning. She was just thinking about what it would mean for Alec when a thought dawned on her. It wasn't just Alec and Magnus he was referring to. She watched as the lines in her mother's face deepened into a scowl.

His words were meant with good intent, but this did nothing to erase the look of sheer horror developing on Jocelyn's face. "Robert!" she shrieked, "Clary and Jace aren't yet adults! She's not even seventeen! You expect her to move in with some boy just because it would make her _happy!_"

"Well that's not exactly true," chimed in Magnus, who was, until this point, deep in conversation with Simon and Isabelle.

"What part about that statement is untrue," Glowered Jocelyn.

"Jace has been eighteen for two days now." He stated simply. Jace felt himself freeze, calculating the time he had been in Alicante. Had it been that long? _Amazing_, he thought_. I missed my own birthday. _In all the rush to finish repairs on the city and his preoccupation with Sebastian's missing body he hadn't even thought about it. _Which is a shame, _he thought offhandedly._ I could have had that whole day to do whatever I wanted…_

"How come you never told anyone it was your birthday?" Isabelle pouted. She must have been disappointed at missing the chance to have a party. "Had I known, there was something I would have gotten you before we left. It's too late now though." She released a sigh and turned back to face the portal. "Are we going yet, or not?"

Jocelyn stood frozen. She seemed to be having conflicting emotions, Clary thought. Her face kept switching between sorrow, and anger. She opened her mouth and closed it several times, as if she wanted to say something, but decided against it. She finally seemed to decide what she wanted to say and she turned to Clary.

Looking sad and pinching the bridge of her nose she said, "I think we need to discuss some things before you go running off with some boy."

Clary felt herself flush. "Mom, I know about the birds and the bees and all that, one. And two he's not just some boy," said Clary with embarrassment. "I don't blame you for being concerned. It's been crazy with everything that's been going on, but I agree with Mr. Lightwood. To an extent." She added, seeing the look on her mother's face. "What I mean by that is that I'd like to move into the institute. There's really no way I can go back to school with everything that I've missed, and I would like to be trained."

Her mother continued to look angry for a second, and then sighed, resigned. "That may be negotiable. Maybe when you're eighteen-"

"No mom. I need to be trained now so that I can _be _a shadowhunter when I'm eighteen. I need to start right away." Clary didn't want to tell her mother her suspicions about Sebastian, knowing that if she freaked her out, she would never become a shadowhunter. She was determined to help Jace in any way she could, when the time came. She knew ultimately it would have to be him to finish it. She didn't know how she knew but she did. And she was going to do everything humanly possible to help him make it back to her alive, and that meant she had to be ready.

"She's right Lyn," said Luke. "And it will be an easy move. Clary only has a few worldly possessions to her name…" he trailed off seeing the look on his new fiancées face.

Clary had always hated seeing her mother cry. She was still so young, herself, and Clary could see how sad losing someone so close to you could be.

"I just got her back, Luke," She choked.

"Mom, you knew I'd grow up eventually, even if this isn't the life you wanted for me. And I'm not leaving you. I'm moving to the institute. It's less than an hour away. And I've been thinking. With Hodge gone, Luke could become our new tutor. You would see me all the time. And you two are going to get married, so I figured that you might want a little extra time to be together... To make plans and then have some privacy afterwards." Her voice trailed off, and her hopes of calming her mother began to slip away. Her mother still looked distraught, but suddenly, she rushed forward and hugged her with such force that Clary had a hard time gasping for air.

"I love you, honey. And you had better call me every day, even if I see you. If you don't, then the deal is off and you'll move back in with Luke and me."  
For a moment, Clary was confused and silent. Then, very suddenly it dawned on her_. Angel, I'm slow today_, she thought.

"You're letting me go!" she cried in almost disbelief.

"You had better be safe," said Jocelyn to her daughter with a very stern, loaded look. For some reason, this made Clary blush several shades of crimson_. Was she referring to hunting demons, or chasing Jace? _Clary hoped it was the former.

"We'll have all your things over by dinner time," said Luke soberly.

With that she, the Lightwoods, Simon, and Magnus stepped through the portal back the institute. Her new home.

**End Note: I will be updating soon. But in order to get it sooner you know what you must do. As fellow writers, you know we thrive on the feedback of others. This was a rather slow chapter, but I promise, things will be speeding up (for those of you who read the original version of this story- you know its true and I WILL get there soon!) Thanks again.**

**Now….**

**PUSH THE BUTTON!**


	2. Chapter 2: Red Eyes

**A/N: I got a lot of traffic, but not very much feedback. It makes me feel all… sad. Drop by. Say Hi. Don't just read it on the fly. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of its characters. However, I do own the intellectual content of this Fanfic- which is fine. Because though I don't own them- I can make them do things. Dirty Dirty things ;]**

**~o.O.o.~**

Simon stood outside the institute doors, as everyone told him good night. He had a sudden wave of sadness as he realized that every one of his friends was beyond those doors, and he never would see the inside again. He wandered the streets for a few hours, new cell phone in hand. He felt comfortable in his light corduroy jacket, even though snow had stuck to the ground in New York sometime in the last few weeks. He wandered until he saw his house, but rather than walk past his family, he decided to scale the wall and go straight to bed. It was barely dusk, but he had been so worn out from the events of the past few months that he just wanted to lie down and sleep for a year. He wondered vaguely if Clary had gotten her things brought to her yet, or if she was making do with the clothes Isabelle brought for her… or a large t-shirt Jace would let her borrow, he thought, still slightly acidy. He liked Jace when everything was said and done, but he would always see Clary as _his_. The thought was chased away by another, the image of Clary up on the Dias and her rune changing her into the form of Isabelle.

When he had met Izzy, she seemed to be someone he couldn't in his wildest dreams handle. She was powerful and independent and had no need of him, other than just another boy toy. But the past few weeks he had really gotten to know her. Seen what she was like under her designer clothes and weapons belt. She was soft, and loving, and genuinely cared about people. And to her it never mattered who was a Downworlder, or a mundane, shadowhunter. She had always seen everyone as _people._ Not races or species or religions or sexual orientation. It was always what kind of people they were.

He barely understood what had happened when Clary changed on the Dias, but he thought he had figured it out. He had no idea when it happened, and he didn't really know why, but he found that he was in love with Isabelle. He sat against the head board in his room thinking about the image that played before his eyes in the Accords hall that day.

Clary stood upon the Dias and drew a rune on her arm. At first nothing happened, but then he began to see Isabelle's face flashing in front of Clary's. He could still see Clary, sometimes more easily than Isabelle, as if the image was confused. He had always loved Clary, which he knew, so it was logical to see her with her rune. But he still wasn't sure how he felt about Isabelle. She only now seemed to be interested in him, now that he was cooler. Though she had kissed him when he was only a mundane. In his mind though, he knew that she had changed. With the new order, along with the death of her brother, Simon knew that she had grown up and was, somehow, no longer fickle and just looking for a fun time. She was looking for someone to take comfort in; someone to confide in and take care of her on the rare occasions she couldn't take care of herself. This Simon knew in his heart of hearts.

His phone rang, the new ringtone shrill and high pitch, hurting his ears. He looked down at the screen and saw Izzy's name flash across the screen.

"Well I'll be dammed," he said as he opened the receiver. A small smile had begun to spread across his face at his inside joke, but it vanished as soon as it had come. "What's wrong?" he spoke into the phone. All he could hear were strangled sobs on the other end of the line. Simon didn't bother to ask if she was ok. That much he knew the answer to. Instead he asked "Where are you… I'll meet you there in five." He hung up the phone and jumped out his window, landing gracefully and took off into the night to take care of Isabelle.

**~o.O.o.~**

Clary sat looking at the boxes of her things that her parents had brought her. A box of art supplies, one and a half boxes of clothes, and some books that hadn't belonged to her before, but assumed that they were for her new course of study at the institute. She wondered briefly how long it would take Isabelle to discover that these were all the clothes she owned in the world, and how long it would then take her to rectify the situation. Her mother and Luke had left a short while ago, and she had already called to tell her mother everything was going to work out fine. There was a quiet knock on the door, and she groaned to herself thinking "Isabelle…" With a sigh she went and walked to the door, surprised to see Jace standing on the other side. His eyes had dark shadows under them and she wondered when the last time he got a restful night of sleep was.

"Can I come in?" he asked quietly. She opened the door to her new room a little further to let him by. He closed the door, and Clary noticed something grasped in his hand. It was the little toy shadow hunter that he had given max. His face was drawn, and looking closer Clary could see other tell-tale signs of fatigue. His eyes were bloodshot and bruises made little circles under them seem to be an angry color. His skin was taunt across his cheek bones, as if he'd lost some weight.

"When was the last time you slept?" Clary asked him touching his face. He leaned his head into her hand and rested it there, closing his eyes. He was silent for a long time, and Clary wondered if he had fallen asleep right there, standing up.

"Um, since the night before I went to see my father on his ship," he responded slowly. "I get a few hours here and there, but never enough. I keep having these dreams that I'm running out of time, and there's still so much I haven't got the chance to do." He straightened up and opened his eyes, gazing into Clary's green ones. She felt the intensity of his stare, like fire exploding on her skin. He touched her elbow and it sent shivers down her spine. "I know you know that I love you, but you have to know how much." His eyes continued to burn, boring into her soul and she knew how he felt because she felt it too. His other hand slid around her waist, pulling her close to him, and she began to shake. She wanted to be with him so fully and so much, but a part of her was holding back. She knew he had been with other girls and she was so utterly inexperience with such things, especially for a girl who grew up in New York.

"What's the matter?" he asked pulling back. Clary fidgeted with her hair, looking at the floor, feeling small and stupid. How could she possibly compare to all those other, beautiful girls?

"The thing is Jace… well I've never… I haven't ever…" her voice sounded quiet and weak, and she felt herself turning red. "I might not be _good." _She said meekly, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Is that what you're afraid of? " Clary could hear the smile in his voice. This made her slightly angry, adding to her embarrassment and redness of her cheeks. She felt Jace brush her hair back, and he lifted her chin. She felt stupid, and close to tears. How could she be so childish? This is what she wanted most in the world, and now she was afraid to have it? It made no sense to her, but she thought that maybe she might not be ready. When Jace spoke, it was with a very serious tone, which conveyed the honesty behind his words. "Whatever you want, when you want it. Not before. I love you, Clary. I would wait until the end of time for you to come to me, if that's what it took. Don't worry about stupid insecurities. I love everything about you, and that will never ever change, no matter what. How I feel about you has nothing to do with weather I have sex with you or not. Not that I don't want to have sex with you, but that's not the point. The point is that I have always loved you for you. And that's it. We can wait." She could hear the sincerity in his voice, see it in his face. He didn't even look disappointed. Not angry or impatient. He just looked like the Jace that loved her, and always had. More than anything, she was glad that he didn't laugh at her. He seemed to realize that this was important, and made no wise cracks. It made her heart squeeze tighter thinking about it.

"Well how about a compromise then?" asked Clary gazing into Jace's eyes.

"No, Clary you misunderstand. You don't have to compromise anything. You don't have to do anything until you're ready."

"I know. I'm not really compromising, because I want you," she paused, looking into his eyes. Whispering she said "I want all of you. But I think I want to work up to having all of you. Because there are some things I wouldn't be opposed to doing right now…"

"Hmmmm," Jace moaned as he scooped Clary into his arms in a tight hug. Her head was above his, her feet nearly a foot off the ground. He looked up at her, and she kissed him, and giggled happily. "You just tell me when to stop, or slowdown, or anything. At any time."

Clary nodded and kissed him again as he flopped down onto the bed, positioning her so that her weight landed on his chest. She gazed down at him wonderingly. He smiled a reckless, Jace smile, and then said, "I will not sleep with you tonight. No matter how badly you may want it. I'm not a first date kind of guy," he joked.

"You call this a date?" Clary replied, feeling his hands against the bare skin of her lower back, sending warm sensations through her body.

His hands gently traced up and down her spine, as he smiled wider. "I asked you to go out and you countered with 'let's stay in,' remember?"

**~o.O.o.~**

Simon smelled her before he saw her. Isabelle had a very specific scent, like baby powder and flowers. She was sitting on a bench outside the Chinese restaurant a block from the institute. She was no longer crying, but her eyes were puffy and red, bloodshot from her recent bout of tears. Her mascara had been fixed, but there were still the tell tale smudges under her eye where she had missed wiping in her hasty attempt to look put together. Simon sat down next to Isabelle without saying a word. He knew she would only talk if she felt like it, so there was no point in asking her if she wanted to. He merely put an arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm. She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. He rocked her slowly back and forth, a calming motion that his mother used to do when he was small and upset.

"It seemed so wrong," she mumbled into his shoulder, "to come home without him, and to just move on without him in the house. It was his home too, and now it seems… emptier somehow." Isabelle choked on a sob and then heaved a ragged sigh. She felt responsible for his death, but despite being told that no one blamed her for what happened, she still blamed herself. Simon didn't try to tell her again what they had all told her a hundred times, he only held her closer. Isabelle, who was so strong, strong enough to take on the worst creatures this world had ever seen, could not handle Max's death.

"Simon, I'm so sorry you have to see me like this," she sobbed. The tears she had been holding back were beginning to flow, "but I just can't let them see me like this. Everyone is so much better off than I am and I just can't bear to make them as miserable as me. I know they're all still mourning Max's death, but in their own ways, they're happy. My parents are full members of the Clave again, and Alec is out of the closet, and Clary and Jace can finally be together, and I'm left with nothing but misery." Simon pushed Isabelle back so that he could look at her more fully. He grasped her shoulders firmly and looked her square in the face.

"Isabelle," he said, "None of those things happened without a price. Everyone has suffered, and no one is going to judge you for missing your baby brother. But you have _got _to stop feeling sorry for yourself and thinking how you're the only one who is sad and has nothing to be happy about. You have plenty to be grateful for. You're talented, and smart, and beautiful, and funny and strong. And most of all, you need to remember that you have me. I get that you feel like your brothers have abandoned you a little because they are both caught up in their love lives. I get that way too when I remember all the time I used to spend with Clary compared to how much time I spend by myself lately. And I think part of your problem is that you _want_ to be happy, but you feel guilty for wanting it when you think you should still be suffering. But none of this was your fault. You can be happy and still miss him Izzy."

Simon finished in a rush. If he had to breathe he would be gasping for air right now. As it was, the just sat there and waited for whatever response he was going to get from Isabelle. She was unpredictable, it was hard to tell if she would be angry for being told to stop pitying herself, or if she would hear what he had said and choose to be happy.

"You're always right, you know? I do feel guilty. And the reason that I came to see you was because you get it. I don't know how you got it, but you do."

Simon paused for a minute. His response was slow, but it seemed to make sense. "I've never really lost anyone I loved, except for my father, and that was just because it was his time to go. But when I died a part of me went too. The happy care free Simon was gone. I think I get it because there was no one to blame. It wasn't anyone's fault, but it happened anyway. And rather than feel sorry about it, I look at how I've become better because of the experience. That's not to say that I don't miss being human. I'll never grow up, I'll be sixteen forever. And worst of all, I won't get to grow old with anyone I love. But on the other hand, I'm a part of this whole new world, a part of the history of what's been happening. I like to think that I'm part of the reason that relations with the other Downworlders and the Shadowhunters have gotten better. I'm right in the thick of it. So no matter how bad things are, they happen for a reason, even if that reason's not so clear at first."

Isabelle's eyes darkened. "What reasoning is there behind the death of a little innocent boy?" She cried turning away from him. The light behind her from the restaurant's window made it only possible to see Isabelle's silhouette. Simon touched her arm. He was surprised that she didn't pull away, but she didn't turn back to face him either.

"Isabelle," said Simon softly, "are you glad to have gotten to know me better these last few weeks?" Simon wasn't sure if this would go the way he wanted, but he hoped it might.

"Honestly," she whispered in a broken voice, "I don't know what I would do without you at this point. I feel like you know me, and that you won't judge. And I can tell you anything. I'm so _glad_ I got to know you."

Simon scooted closer to Isabelle and turned her to face him. "Max did that. Everything that has happened in the past year did that. Everything happens for a reason. Right now I feel like… like Clary met Jace so that I could know you. And everything that has happened in the last _twenty years _led up to our lives intersecting. There were so many ifs. So many variables. If her mother had moved to Chicago instead. If Jace had went to live with a different family. It's all part of the grand scheme of things. Including Max. But you take the good with the bad, Isabelle. That's all anyone can be expected to do. "

"You're always right, Simon." That was all she said. But she laid her head back on his shoulder and they just sat as it started to snow. The silence the snow brought with it was calming. Not a yell or a car's engine could be heard. It was almost _too_ quite. Simon's ears perked up as he strained to hear anything of the world around him, but all that came to him was the sound of Izzy's breathing. He wasn't sure whether the silence was welcome or threatening, but he pushed the concern aside. Right now he was needed and all he could focus on was her.

**What does the silence of the snow mean? Find out next chapter. Meanwhile- Constructive criticism is welcome! In fact- it's even encouraged. So don't just stand there! **

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	3. Chapter 3: Hopes and Dreams

**A/N: so I was going to wait until Wednesday to post a new chapter, BUT I just couldn't wait that long. This one is a bit long, but I wanted to make some progress. For those of you who have reviewed- THANK YOU! You are so awesome that I might be inclined to share Jace in a threesome! Well… maybe I wouldn't go that far, but you get the point. **

**As a side note, I would personally like to thank GeeAnnaB- You may not know it, but you have inspired a chapter that will take place sometime down the line. Probably not for a while now, but OOOO the idea is SO good. Thank you for the inspiration. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments or any of its corresponding characters. I do, however, own the intellectually property of this plot line- which is a good thing because I can do whatever I want in my own little fantasy world- including that threesome with Jace I mentioned earlier ^^. So be nice and review- You might see something you like. ;]**

**~o.O.o~**

Clary lay awake with her head on Jace's chest listening to his heart beat. She marveled at its steady rhythm, and how strong it was. _Not bad, _she thought, _for someone who was stabbed through the chest four months ago. _It had taken Jace only a few minutes to fall asleep, with her whispering sweet nothings in his ear. She had watched as his eyes started to droop, and she saw him struggling to stay awake, willing himself to watch her sleep. But she had won out in the end, and now her hands traced the scars left behind from old marks that covered his bare chest. He had once told her that marks were more powerful the closer they were to a person's heart. She knew this to be true as Jace had left his mark on her heart and she would never be the same.

Jace moaned in his sleep and turned his head. Was it just her, or was his face covered with sweat? He turned his head again, his brow furrowing in what looked like frustration. She remembered faintly watching Simon's cat sleep and twitch like this, and he referred to it as "kitty dreams." But this was not cute to watch. It worried her. No wonder he wasn't sleeping. He was having nightmares. She tried to wake him up, but he just tossed harder. She sat up and shook his shoulder.

He sat bolt upright in bed, the covers falling down around his waist. His breathing was heavy, and he looked lost.

"Jace," Clary whispered. "Jace, look at me. It's ok. It was just a dream." Slowly his breathing calmed. His fists were in knots, clutching the sheets with such force, Clary was sure he'd rip them. Hair clung to his wet face, and he looked at her, fear apparent, even in the dark. He said nothing, but grabbed her and held her so tightly that Clary wondered if he knew he was awake.

"Don't think I'm crazy Clary, but I'm really running out of time. By the angel, I know these dreams mean something is going to happen and I feel like I don't have enough time to do everything I have to." He clutched her arms and pulled her away so that he could look at her eyes through the darkness.

"What do you have to do that's so important?" Clary knew what was causing him to worry about time… time with her, his family, time on earth in general.

"Everything, Clary. I have to train you and make sure everyone knows how much I appreciate them for everything they've done for me. I have to make sure you're always safe, because I don't know what I would do if I let anything bad get you… for any reason; like me not being here."

"Jace, we have time. Everything will be ok." Clary could see the outline of his scars in the moon light. She could smell his skin, warm and welcoming, and she could see his fear. It was a subtle thing that only someone who _knew_ he was hiding it would be able to know that that was _what_ he was hiding.

"No, Clary. Everything might _not_ be ok." As he said it, his face closed, turning to stone. Valentine may not have been his birth father, but he had taught him how to be cold. Had taught him how to shut himself away. His whole body radiated a hardness that made it feel impossible for Clary to reach out and touch him. He ripped the sheets to one side and then moved to leave. It was late. Well past midnight. Distantly she could hear Church pacing the hallway and the snores of the Lightwoods. But her world had become utterly small, and as if all the air were being sucked out of the room she began to chock on sobs. Jace, his face still oddly cold, brushed away a fallen tear and kissed the top of her head. He pulled back to where he was looking down on her, and grabbed her hand. She noticed, almost absently, that his hand was the perfect size for hers. It did not envelope her entire hand like her father's grasp had, but it was not so small that it looked frail. Nothing about Jace could be construed as weak, in any kind of way. Delicate, perhaps, but fiercely so. "Don't cry, Shadowhunter," he whispered harshly. "It's time you trained, and learned why you _never_ assume that there will be enough time in this kind of life." He pulled her to her feet and bent down to grab a bag at the base of the bed. Her fighting gear.

**~o.O.o~**

"Isabelle?" Simon whispered over her shoulder. "Isabelle, I don't think this is the best idea. I mean… this could kill me."

"You're immortal! Quit being such a baby." She snapped. Simon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Just because he would never die of old age did not mean that he couldn't meet an untimely death.

"Isabelle, _think_ about this for just a _second_. I am _damned_ for all intents and purposes. _Yes_, I can walk around in the daylight, but I can't even say holy names. _Why on earth would you think that I can just walk right into the institute?" _

"We've been through this, now haven't we?" Simon had to admit, she had a point. But her idea could best be described as theory, and most of the evidence was against it. He couldn't say the name of God, though he thought it frequently. He still prayed (silently), but vampires were creatures to be damned. Never to see the light of day or set foot inside the sanctuary of a holy premises again.

"Tell me why you think this will work, again?"

"I told you already, Simon," she fussed, but continued on. "Because the angel's blood is in you. Real angel blood. And the institute will not turn away one with the blood of the angel who means no harm to those within its walls."

"Holy relics burn me, Isabelle."

She stopped walking so suddenly that Simon almost ran into her. They were only about two blocks from the institute, where he could see the arching domes of the cathedrals towers. In one of them was the greenhouse, which he had once thought was beautiful, and it was where his best friend was now living. He sorrowed briefly that he would never be able to go and just hang out in the kitchen with the nephilim, and mock Izzy's cooking.

"They burn you," began Isabelle fiercely, as if she had had a moment of insight, her eyes widening as she spoke, "because they are the mark of God. But runes, _angel's_ _marks, _don't. Simon, that's it! Adam and Eve were banned from the Garden of Eden because they fell out of favor with God, but he still loved them. And ultimately he let them back into his graces. Simon, God still loves you, he's just teaching you. But you can be marked! Runes aren't God's marks. They're the angel's! Clary could change you from damned to blessed!" Some part of Simon knew that Isabelle had only been putting up a brave front in making herself believe that he could walk through the institute solely with his acquired angel's blood. But then she had an idea that surpassed her hope to have him near her. It was an idea full of actual merit.

"Shall you call Clary, or shall I?"

**~o.O.o~**

Clary, for what seemed like the millionth time, was thrown on her back, the wind knocked out of her. She rolled back onto her stomach and pushed herself back up.

"Again." Jace sounded weary. He was frustrated with her, she knew, but he couldn't train her to be a shadowhunter in one night.

"Jace, can't you give it a rest, just for tonight? It's three in the morning." She didn't want to tell him that she was tired, mentally and physically, and that there were already bruises sprouting up in her back and shoulders, where he kept flipping her onto her back like she weighed nothing.

"Clary, you have to get this. When you get it I promise we can stop. You're so close. I just want you to know _something_."

"Jace, I'm not utterly helpless. I can do _some_ things!" She stood up and tried not to wince. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't want him to know that she was hurting. _Probably_, she thought, _because he would blame himself for my being hurt, even though I got that way training._ She sighed. Her muscles ached. She was dead on her feet so Jace's voice sounded far away and cool.

"Close your eyes," he said. She did. "Listen to everything around you… the sound of my voice… the whisper of the wind…" His voice carried on, and slow faded away. They had done this so much in the past three hours that it was becoming routine, but she kept listening, her eyes closed. All was silent. This is new, she thought. Usually I hear everything and it's so distracting… Her thoughts trailed away as Jace's voice had and she heard very faintly the sound of a breath to her right. So soft that no one other than a shadowhunter could have heard it.

And she grabbed the hand that was coming at her before her eyes even had time to fly open. When she looked down she saw, to her utter amazement, that Jace was flat on his back, her hand pinning his shoulder and a knee in his chest. She was momentarily annoyed that he was smiling, but then he spoke, rolling up to prop on his elbows as she released the pressure on his shoulder.

Sitting up he said "That was perfect, Clary," and he cupped her face and kissed her. He head was spinning. He sat further up and deepened the kiss. His hands roamed her back, moving to her shoulders- And Clary gasped in pain.

"What's wrong, are you ok?" Jace questioned withdrawing from her. She felt colder now that he was no longer touching her, so she moved closer, her body aching more without his presence.

"Just training bruises. Will you draw an _iratze_ on my shoulder?"

Jace cleared his throat as she turned around and began raising her shirt to be marked. His hands drew out his stele and softly traced her shoulder blade. Jace paused and brushed her bra strap so that it slipped down her arm and continued to trace the rune. Clary relaxed as she felt the rune start to take effect. She moaned as Jace began to massage her shoulders, easing away the rest of the tension in her back. Her eyes began to droop and her body started to slouch forward. She yawned and heard Jace chuckle. She blinked sleepily as she felt Jace stand up beside her and then pull her, like a small child, into his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder and his arms were warm around her. She felt herself slipping away into unconsciousness as she snuggled her cheek further into his shoulder. She felt his chest shake with silent laughter and she smiled too, her eyes closing. She vaguely recalled that he was carrying her back to her room, but before she knew it, she was dreaming.

**~o.O.o~**

The sky was the purest blue she had ever seen. _I must be near Alicante_, she thought wonderingly. She looked out and saw that she was standing on a grand hill, overlooking Lake Lyn. There was a flutter against her legs and she realized that she was wearing a dress. She felt arms slide around her and she thought _Jace_. She leaned back again his chest, looking up. But the eyes that met hers were not Jace's. They were cold, black and frighteningly familiar. She lurched forward, but his arms tightened around her waist.

"I am the worst kind of monster, little sister," said Jonathan Morgenstern, his voice hot and rasping in her ear. The sound was but an acidic whisper. "I'm the kind of monster that would do anything to make his victim suffer." A hand loosed on her hip, and she struggled to break the other ones hold, but it was replaced by a knife to her throat. She stopped moving instantly. "And do you know what would make you suffer, little _sister_?" He asked, emphasizing that one word as if it would hurt her. He turned her sharply to face away from the beautiful view of the lake, towards the other side of the hill to where a person was tied, his eyes wide and filled with pain. She knew those eyes better than she knew her own reflection.

There was a pressure in the middle of her back as she went flying forward, face planting into the grass. There was a hand in between her shoulder blades now, forcing her to stay on the ground.

Jonathan spoke sickeningly into her ear. "And what would make both of you suffer the most? Why dear _sis_ter, that would be raping and killing you why he watches."

**Yes, it is a dream, but it's not JUST a dream, if that makes any sense. The action is about to start. But in order to get there, you must **

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	4. Chapter 4: Show me how to live   And Die

**A/N: Wha-HO! Very exciting chapter ahead. Hope everyone enjoys- I know I enjoyed writing it. And if I were a reader the suspense would be killing me. But I wrote it, so I know what happens. However, you, dear readers, don't know what will happen so at the end of this I expect REVIEWS! I've gotten a lot of story alerts, a lot of subscriptions and favorite story adds, and A LOT of traffic, but I'm lacking in reviews. Therefore, I am going to start cracking down. Feed my addiction and I will feed your curiosity. **

**I would also like to send out special thanks to my new Beta, GeeAnnaB. You ROCK (my crimson and gold Harry Potter socks! Lol)**

**Disclaimer: Like Cassandra Claire, I have too much time on my hands. Unlike her, I did not come up with this world OR the characters. And I am certainly NOT making a profit off of this awesomeness. **

"She's not answering her phone," said Simon with a sigh. It was well past when Clary would have fallen asleep. She had always been a sound sleeper. When they were younger he used to paint her face while she slept and she would wake up completely oblivious and walk into his bathroom and scream.

"Well let's go get her up. This is more important than her beauty sleep anyway," scoffed Isabelle as she hurried across the street towards the institute once more.

Simon sighed. He was eager to be able to enter the institute and be with his friends, but he was not so intent on barging up there and waking her from where she probably was curled up with Jace. The thought still made him angry.

"Isabelle, we can wait till morning. It'll be sunrise in a few hours anyway. I can already feel its approach." It was still strange. His vampire instincts keep telling him that he should be heading for shelter, but he knew that it was only because he shouldn't be allowed in the sun. He was glad that he was able to, but the feeling of foreboding every morning was an unwelcome reminder that he was something less than human. He doubted even a rune would be able to change that. There was no cure for vampirism.

**~o.O.o~**

Clary gasped. What a horrible dream. She had woken up just in time. She shuddered to think what would have happened had she not been woken up by Jace's hand on her cheek. His eyes were worried. He looked down at her with a frown on his face. Clary checked the clock. She had only been asleep about a half an hour. Her head was pounding and she felt flushed. She looked back at Jace, his face coming in and out of focus. The room started to spin and she sat bolt upright, throwing off the covers and running towards the bathroom. Jace arrive just in time to see her dry heaving on the floor. Clary stood up shakily and headed for the sink to splash cold water on her skin. Her face was boiling. What a sick, horrible dream.

"Clary, what did you see?" Jace's voice was quiet. He knew she had been dreaming then.

"Jonathan Morgenstern at Lake Lyn. You were there, tied at the bottom of the hill overlooking the lake…" Her voice trailed away. She couldn't tell him what had almost happened even though it was just a dream. When she looked up though, Jace's eyebrows were so high in surprise that they threatened to disappear into his hair line. "What is it?" she asked.

"I've had this dream. I _have_ this dream every night. It doesn't ever reach the worst part, the part where he… where you…" He got lost in his own thought, tears almost visible in the dim light. _How odd…_

"The end doesn't matter right now," she said slowly. "What matters is that we're having the same dream. Why?" She knew she was on to something. She just didn't know what.

"What do you mean?" Jace asked, snapping out of his thought processes and into shadowhunter fight mode. He was still distraught looking, but now he had a purpose.

"Jace, no one should be _that_ connected with someone else. There is a reason we are both having this dream. And I don't think it's a premonition. I think it's something else. Something darker." There was a chilly silence the filled the room, followed by Jace's sharp intake of breath. His face glowered as he grabbed her hand and half carried, half drug her to the door.

"It's a psychic attack. We need to call Magnus. Now."

**~o.O.o~**

Clary was dressed, yet again, in her fighting gear. Her new stele was grasped in her hands and her hair flew out from her head like a mass of unruly flames. Despite having gotten next to no sleep, she was wide awake, alert, and ready for anything that might come her way. She had two seraph blades tucked into her belt, along with the curved dagger she had once used to pin Maia to Luke's couch after Simon had become a vampire. _And the look suites her,_ thought Jace with satisfaction. He had once thought of Clary as weak and frail as a mundane. It didn't take him long to learn that he had been dead wrong. There was some strength in her that he had always sensed, but now he could _see_ it. And no one, in the history of nephilim had ever looked more beautiful or more dangerous. _She looks like an avenging angel. _She threw on the worn green cloak she had brought with her to Alicante and headed for the snow outside.

Jace pulled on his new leather jacket. It was not quite as good as his old one. It was not broken in quite right yet and it still smelled of the department store he had bought it from. It was warm though, so he shrugged it on, vowing to wear it someplace it could get properly scuffed.

Clary was just outside the door. The wind whipped her hair back. She looked angry. Jace understood. Her dreams had been violated. She wasn't even safe inside her own head. _Hell hath no fury… _though Jace with a grim face. She was dangerous alright. But who was she a greater danger to? Her demon brother or herself?

The city was still asleep. Void of any life on this cold night. The Snow was silently falling. And deepening with every block they went. They walked the full distance to Magnus's apartment. The trains had long since made their last runs of the night, and the fist run was still an hour off. But they couldn't afford to wait. They walked in determined silence, not wanting to ruin the moment of peace that rarely befell the city. Clary grasped Jace's hand, the tips of her fingers turning red from exposure in her fingerless gloves. Jace glanced down at her face. She was red cheeked and the snow stuck to her eyelashes and hair. Her rage had calmed, her fever broken. She looked peaceful as she observed the streets of Manhattan.

"Everything looks cleaner when it snows," she said just above a whisper. Her breath puffed out in little wisps of vapor. Jace laughed.

"Call it the seasonal glamour." Clary giggled. He was aware that her doing so made his heart beat faster and feel as if it had a balloon swelling happily inside him. Hearing her made him smile wider and slow down. She turned when she felt him lagging behind. He grabbed her other hand, and held them in his own looking at her. He was about to say something about how beautiful she looked when he heard it. The sound of someone approaching somewhere to their left, swiftly and stealthily. His face hardened as he pulled her close to him, his hands sliding under her cloak. He bent his head to her hair, as if he were kissing her neck and whispered, "Something's coming from the left, down the alley. Be ready." He grasped one of the seraph blades and felt Clary shift her weight and place one of her hands on another weapon. He didn't say how he thought she wasn't ready for a real fight with demons yet. This was hardly the time to make her doubt herself. There was also the point that she had encountered demons before and won, but only because of her rune skills, not her fighting ability. Jace sighed slowly, willing himself not to tense and give away the surprise. And then they were on them.

**~o.O.o~**

Isabelle had finally succumbed to the idea of breakfast anytime, rather than wake Clary and Jace. She now chatted happily over waffles and bacon, sipping on a soda.

"I do love the snow. It makes everything so magical… without actual magic, thank god. There's always a price to pay with magic. But snow is magical in its own natural accord."

"Being a nephilim, would that make it bad to make snow angels, or cute," Asked Simon. He knew that you could never name an angel blade after _the_ angel, but other angel blades were a must. He wondered if snow angels would be considered offensive or not. But he was completely surprised by Izzy's answer.

"What's a snow angel? Like a winter faerie?" Izzy looked at him with curious eyes, her black hair fanning her back under her blue beanie.

"You don't know what a snow angel is? Every kid in the world who's ever seen snow knows what a snow angel is. You _grew_ _up_ in New York!" Simon was flabbergasted. Without thinking he grabbed Izzy's hand and dragged her to the door.

"Hey you kids! You need to pay!" yelled the fat greasy cook. Simon just turned and growled at the cook, knowing he would leave them be. They were coming right back after all. Plus the look on the cook's face was so classic that it made Simon burst out laughing as he walked out the door with Izzy in tow. The snow plows hadn't come out yet, and he doubted that they would for another few hours, and he would hear them long before they could reach him. So without further ado, he flopped down in the middle of the street, two feet of power coving his sides and began to move his arms to form a snow angel.

Simon remembered ruining many angels when he was younger trying to get out of them, but it was not a problem now. He simply jumped from his back to his feet about a foot from the bottom of his angel. He looked at Izzy and motioned to his indent in the snow and proclaimed "Snow angel." He clapped his hands together as he continued to watch her and brush off snow from his clothes. She stared for a moment more, and Simon wondered if she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. But very suddenly she simply flopped onto her back and began moving her arms and legs in a horizontal jumping-jack. Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth and snow clumped in her hair, but she looked like she was having the time of her life. She looked young. Some kind of freedom was in her eyes that he hadn't seen since the day he met her. It was when Clary came into her life, he realized, that she had begun to have a look of constant worry for her brother. But this was so simple. She clamored up and spun to see her creation.

"That was so much fun!" Isabelle threw her arms around Simon's neck and hugged him with all her force. He was surprised, but not as surprised as she was. She calmed down and loosened her grip, sliding a little away from him, but close enough that he could still touch her. "That was a little over reaction, but thank you."

"For what," asked Simon, a little baffled. Snow angels were fun, but not thank you worthy.

"For showing me how to live again. I've been so concerned with not feeling anything that I did realize how much I needed to feel _something._

Simon swallowed hard. "Anytime."

As the demons surrounded them, Jace pulled the seraph blade out of Clary's weapons belt and named it. The glow from the blade lit his face and he saw that no less than five crutcher demons were closing in. He and Clary stood back to back, blades glowing, wind whipping, and fierceness emanating from their combined power. Jace literally thought he could feel the energy flowing between them, feeding them both. He had never stood to fight with Clary before. He'd always fought for her, but now he was sure she could hold her own if something were to happen to him. The light overhead went out as a line fell. Mundanes would assume it was from the storm, but the pair was well aware that it was from Demons handing from them, taunting their prey below. And with the first spark to hit the ground, the demons sprang.

Jace ducked under the first one and stabbed him with the blade in his left hand, while his right pushed the body out of his war path. He could hear the sick sound of steal being thrust into flesh from behind him as Clary slashed one of the creature's throats. From the corner of his eye he saw her foot kick out, its aim true, landing in the face of the next demon that tried to oppose Clary. He was caught off guard from her distraction and was clawed in his abdomen. He let out a furious howl as he looked down to see that yet another leather jacket had met its end.

"I just bought that!" He yelled, roundhouse kicking the demon back and then lunging for the kill. He stood back up realizing that he had left Clary's back vulnerable and rushed back to her side. Her cloak had been pulled off her shoulders, leaving her in nothing but her fighting gear for warmth. Despite that, she was sweating, wounding demon after demon, but only having killed the first one. Jace turned to see the mother crutcher demon looming over him. His eyes followed her body up eight feet. Without hesitation he slammed his foot into her stomach collapsing it to the ground. He pounced, knowing that this would be the fastest way to end the battle. Her claw scraped the side of his face, but he disregarded it and moved in for the kill. He slit her throat and all the demons began convulsing, and folding in on themselves.

"What happened," Clary panted, confused.

"Her offspring are all tied to her. You kill the mother and all the rest go with her." Jace was breathing hard, his face bleeding. Still kneeling on the ground he pulled his jacket away from his body and put his whole fist through the tear. He looked up to tell Clary that they needed to get moving and off the street, but before he could say anything he felt I sharp, excruciating pain shoot _through_ his shoulder. He looked down in just enough time to see that he had been shot with an arrow, and that the thing was still lodged in his shoulder. He crumpled the rest of the way to the ground slowly, the pain becoming too much to bear_. Not like this_, he thought. _The battle is yet to be fought, words yet to be said_. Distantly he heard Clary screech. She was kneeling with him, his head in her lap as she stroked his blood soaked hair. She fumbled through her fallen cloak until she found her phone and dialed.

"Jace has been shot, please hurry!" She wept into the phone.

"Pull it out," Jace moaned through gritted teeth.

"What? No! I can't pull that out, you need a doctor or a Magnus or something!" Jace was aware of the panic of her voice and the pain cursing through his body, but he still felt a chuckle rise in his throat, which he instantly regretted.

"A Magnus?" he asked. He felt his face trying to force a smile, but all that he managed was a grimace. He could see her hair falling around her face and her eyes shining with worry. Her voice kept coming in and out of focus, but it was still the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Everything was beginning to numb and his eyes were becoming less focused as well. For some reason he felt that he had to ask now just in case it was his last time looking into his angel's eyes. "Clary, will you marry me?"

He was beginning to fade away when an even greater pain filled his entire body, causing him to arch upwards, snap his eyes wide open and release a horrible cry somewhere between an agonizing scream and a growl. He looked wildly around to see Clary holding a crimson stick with tears rolling down her face in a constant flow. She had pulled out the arrow.

"I'm sorry," she repeated over and over as she scrambled around him to better put pressure on his wounded shoulder. She drew out her stele and yanked his sweater back, ripping his shirt out of the way so she could draw an _iratze. _The tip of her Stele had just touched his skin when she withdrew it away with a gasp. Jace tried to lift his head to see what had caused her to stop from drawing the healing rune, which could possibly be the thing standing between his life and death, but she just pushed his head back into her lap whispering "don't look."

**Soooo… picking up speed now? I like it so far. "If you don't like it you can shove it. But you don't like it, you love it."-Weezer. **

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	5. Chapter 5: Shrieks

**A/N: Short one! Sorry folks. I know, I know, it's mean. It had to be done though. If I keep going then I won't be able to stop and it would be OBSCENELY long. And no one wants that… Well, most of you don't. **

**Anyways- without further ado- wait, no… I have thank you's to do. I would like to thank GeeAnnaB again for being my Beta. You rock girl! I would also like to thank Zanab, who unfortunately is an anonymous reviewer so the only way I can say thanks for all the encouragement is right in the beginning of a chapter. **

**Right- so. Off we go. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments. Well, not the books… the objects themselves… well that's another issue entirely. Enjoy ;]**

Isabelle was just about to lose the snowball fight when her phone rang. She fumbled in her pocket, trying to dislodge the ringing contraption with her gloved fingers. When she finally held the phone to her ear, her cheeks, which had been flushed from the cold, suddenly paled. She mumbled 'yes' and snapped her phone shut and dropping the snowball that was in her hand. She raced down the street toward Simon and grabbed his arm, spinning him so that he would follow.

"Where are we going?" Simon asked easily keeping pace with the shadowhunter at his side.

"Magnus's. Jace is hurt." That was all she said, but a feeling of dread cursed through his heart. If Jace was hurt, what happened to Clary, who was surely with him?

**~o.O.o~**

Clary held onto the broken arrow so tightly that the tip of it was cutting into her palm. The entire thing was absolutely covered in Jace's blood. When she saw him drifting away from her, she could think of nothing else that would bring him back quickly enough. She wanted him awake and alert, and not comforted into sleep, where he might not wake up. She was glad she had done it, but the experience still replayed in her mind.

Jace asking her to marry him because he thought he was dying and wanted her to know. His eyes getting a faraway look and turning a lifeless color. His expression loosening… she had seen that look a hundred times since the fight against Valentine.

It was only a moment before Jace was going to let go. So she grabbed the arrow at the pointed end and pulled it out, leaving a wound torn at its edges and mangled inside. Blood still dripped from the feathered end. She had Jace's uninjured arm thrown around her shoulder and she slowly dragged him along with her toward Magnus's apartment. He was conscious, enough to support some of his own weight, but his feet shuffled slowly and heavily.

Clary believed that his fatigue and increasingly sluggish motor functions were caused by the poison coursing through his veins.She was sure that was what it was. The moment she tore his shirt open and saw the black lines lacing out of the wound across his chest and up his neck she knew that the shot into his shoulder had been intentional. Whoever had done it had meant only to wound Jace, not kill him. This knowledge did nothing to comfort her

She heard Jace speaking to her left, but his words were becoming increasingly slurred makingit difficult to understand him.

"Clarrrry, youna ansrd ma quesion." His face was limp and his head was hanging, looking at his feet, concentrating on moving one foot in front of the other.

"Come on Jace, we're almost there. Just one more block."

**~o.O.o~**

Alec ran down the steps of Magnus' front door and nearly slipped on the ice he met outside. He was shirtless and the wind was freezing. It cut through his flannel sleep pants and blew his hair off his face. He could barely see through the swirling snow a tiny figure, moving quickly enough with flames swirling around the top. Clary. She was dragging someone quite a lot larger than her and held what looked like an overlong feather in her hand. He had hoped it had just been a horrible dream, but he now knew that his wishes were in vein. Jace really had been shot.

He ran down the road to meet her, taking Jace from her and throwing the full weight of his body over his shoulder. He yelled to Clary through the strengthening wind "How did you manage to come this far in such a short amount of time? And without a car," he added looking around wildly to see if maybe he missed it.

"We were already on our way over here," she shouted back as they ran towards the High Warlock's apartment.

The warmth of the studio apartment was wonderful after escaping the blizzard that was starting to rip through Brooklyn. It was barely noticed, however, as Alec carried a limp body up the stairs.

"Alec, brother," Jace grunted to the man who's back he was slung over.

"Yeah, Jace, how are you doing?"

"Do me a favor- don't fart while my head is back here," he said in a grave and serious voice. It was a moment later that Alec felt Jace's chest heave in a chuckle_. _

_Leave it to Jace to be an ass even in the face of death,_ thought Alec. Somehow it made the situation graver.They were at the top of the stairs. _Thank the angels_, thought Alec as he dumped Jace unceremoniously on the dining room table.

Upon contact with the hard wood, Jace let out another grunt of pain. His face was red with a sheen of sweat covering his brow. Magnus waltzed up to the table and began inspecting the wound.

"Hey, you're sparkly," Jace remarked.

"He's entered a state of delirium. The poison is affecting his mind and senses. He's no longer feeling anything, but it means that we have little time… Biscuit, I'm going to need you to move," said Magnus, brushing past Clary. She remained where she was, her eyes getting a faraway look as she began to teeter on the spot. Alec moved so fast that he was a blur and was at Clary's side before she could hit the floor.

"Exhaustion?" he asked hauling her onto the table next to his brother.

"No. Poison," Magnus replied, removing the arrow from her hand and inspecting the small cut in her palm where the tip had broken the skin. "She said Jace was shot, but I just assumed it was with a gun…We have to move quickly."

**~o.O.o~**

They had run the twenty six blocks from the diner to Magnus's apartment without stopping. They could see the lights to Magnus's living room reflecting off the falling snow. Without warning Simon yanked Isabelle off her feet and onto his shoulders.

"Hold on," was all he said.

"What are you- Put me _down." _But it was too late and she clung tightly around his neck. Before she was aware of what he was doing Isabelle looked down to see that they were two stories up a wall. Then, with one final swooping sensation in her stomach, she was met with the warmth of a place inside.

"Did you just _climb_ the _wall_?

"It was faster," Simon responded without really looking at her. He was walking towards the light in the dining room where voices could be heard.

Isabelle felt herself wash with worry and something else she wasn't quite sure about. She was upset, but not about Jace. Glancing guiltily into the next room, her eyes landed on Simon, whose hand was now encompassing Clary's. For a moment she was angry at the other girl.

The feeling was soon forgotten, though, when the screaming shrieks from both her brother and friend started.

**REVIEW. That's right. I said it. Now important question- if happiness is like peeing your pants because everyone can see it but only you can feel its warmth, THEN wouldn't it then stand to reason that since reviews make me happy and everyone can see it, but only I can be made to feel heartwarmed by it, then YOUR reviews are like peeing in MY pants because everyone can see them but only I can feel their warmth… Ok- kinda gross. But true, right? So PEE IN MY PANTS PEOPLE! Review! 3**


	6. Chapter 6: Collision

It was like a dream he couldn't escape. Jace looked wildly around the black abyss, seeing nothing, but hearing the terrified calls of the woman he loved. _I have to find her_, he thought desperately. He took a step towards where he thought her voice was coming from, but as soon as he moved an excruciating pain shot up through his feet causing him to cry out in pain. He had never experienced anything like it. The most excruciating part of the who ordeal though, was that he could hear Clary just up ahead and knew that she was in the same amount of crippling pain as he was, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to help her.

Jace took another electrifyingly painful step towards Clary, realizing that space and sound are not the same here as it was in the real world…Wherever _here_ was. As soon as he moved forward, the sound of Clary's screaming was immensely louder. He felt that she was screaming in his ear, though he could see nothing but blackness ahead.

To his left he saw what could only be described as a collection of orange sparks, glinting and shimmering in every which way, but never moving from the cluster where they were concentrated. He heard Clary screaming again as the sparks changed a violent red and made a surge in his direction. _Are they what is causing the pain_, he wondered. _Are they doing that to her? _He moved closer to her again and felt agony searing his every nerve.

He could see no sparks surrounding him though. He could only feel pain. He looked down to see just what it was that was sending what felt like electrical currents into his skin, hoping it would be possible to see _something_ is this void.

_What the hell_, he thought continuing to look down. There were more sparks here. He took another step, enticing agony to course through him again and saw the sparks change from golden to burning red. Finally it dawned on him that he wasn't surrounded by sparks because he _was_ the sparks.

**~o.O.o~**

Magnus's hair had fallen from its usual spiky splendor due to the sweat that had drenched his face. Alec looked on his progress with a worried expression, his brow furrowed so deeply that Isabelle wondered if he would have wrinkles before the night was over.

Magnus was concentrating so hard on the task at hand that he had begun to levitate with blue fog encircling him and his patients. Every few seconds the intense silence of the room would be broken with a piercing cry from one of the unconscious victims before him.

The Book of the White lay open on the table that Jace and Clary had been put on. The fog thickened as his voice rose from its nearly mute murmur to a tremendous shout. His back arched and his face was streaming with sweat from the amount of energy he was using. With a muffled _umph _Magnus fell to the floor as Alec reached out to catch him.

"I need to rest. I'll be lucky to ever wake them up," breathed Magnus with a look of suppressed pain and exhaustion. "The poison in their veins is a very potent one, thousands of years old. It sends whoever becomes infected with it to a hell dimension."

"This may be a stupid question," Simon began, stepping forward with a glass of water for Magnus, "But if they were sent to a hell dimension, they why are they still _here_?"

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Because, my liquid dieting friend, reality is merely a projection of the mind. This poison attacks the mind and sends them… someplace else. And that's all I really know. Few have ever come out of there alive."

**~o.O.o~**

Clary continued to scream through the pain. It was slow moving through her, coursing through her veins from her hand. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was because she had gripped the arrow too tightly in her hand, but she couldn't remember why she had been holding it in the first place.

Absently she wondered how long she had been in the darkness. She released another cry of agonizing pain and realized that, though she screamed, she did not feel any sort of pain in her throat.

Abruptly she took a mental inventory of what was hurt_. My hand and my feet feel like they are being shocked. Repeatedly. I can't feel _anything_ else. _With a mental jolt she realized that that was truer that she had meant it_. I can't feel _anything_else, not even my body. _She was surrounded by darkness and panic threatened to overrun her_. Jace, I need you_, she thought.

**~o.O.o~**

Jace heard her as though she was inside his head. He could feel her agony, her fear. It was all there. He was so close to her that if he had a body he could have reached out and touched her. It was strange.

She didn't seem to be able to see him (or his sparks, more like), but he was perfectly able to feel everything that surrounded him. It was as if he could reach out with his mind and touch things. _Interesting,_ he thought, _but talk about sensory overload_.

The experience was beginning to make his entire being ache. If only he could touch Clary, to make her see that everything was going to be all right. Let her know that she wasn't alone. _ I'm right here Clary, _he thought with all his might_. We'll be ok. Just turn around and come to me. I'm right here_.

To his astonishment, the array of sparks that he knew was Clary's essence brightened to a golden hue so intense that for a moment he could _see_ where they were; a barren wasteland of what was once a great city. He could see fallen buildings and crumbled roads and in the darkness of the ruins, he could see creatures, like he and Clary, lurking in the city's midst, creeping forward towards them.

Alarm raced through Jace, and he knew that she could feel it. With one last excruciating surge forward they met, their souls colliding.

That was when everything exploded.

**~o.O.o~**

Alec sat holding Magnus in his arms. The warlock looked like he had aged ten years in a short amount of time. For three hours he had been working to free Jace and Clary from the mental bonds that trapped them and to no avail.

The outcome looked grim. Neither Jace nor Clary had shown any signs of improvement. They both lay there looking as though there was nothing wrong with them except that they were in a deep sleep.

Silence gripped the room and the tension was so high it could have been cut with a knife. Simon and Isabelle sat in the study pouring over books to see if there was any cure for the affects of the poison, which had been discovered to be a drought of eternal suffering. _Cheery_, thought Alec with bitter sarcasm.

He was prepared for almost anything in his life, but he didn't know if he could stand to lose another brother. The miserable thought was just about to sink it when all hell broke loose in the room.

Glass objects began shattering thought the dining area, shards flying everywhere. Alec threw Magnus behind the couch and covered him with his body trying to deflect some of the debris.

There was a horrid screeching sound emanating from the other end of the room. When Alec looked up to find the source of the noise he was horrified to see that it was Jace and Clary, levitating off the table, heads thrown back in a series of rolling screams.

Clary's entire body was shaking and it looked as if she were having a seizure. Jace's form began to rise higher towards the ceiling, his head lolling towards the side. His eyes were open and the sight of them sent shivers down Alec's back. The whites of his eyes had turned crimson as blood vessels burst. He looked as if he were crying red tears and Alec wondered if he had been possessed.

Demon possessions were very rare, but Jace had been weakened by the battle and the poison. _It's possible_, Alec thought. Dismally, he looked down at Magnus knowing that there was no hope in an exorcism. He was just too drained. Behind him there was the commotion of feet pounding on the ground from the other room.

Izzy and Simon came running into the room, weapons in hand. Simon stopped so quickly in front of Isabelle that she ran straight into him, nicking his arm with her seraph blade. He hardly seemed to notice as he surged towards Clary and grabbed her hand.

With a sickening crunch both Clary and Jace landed on the table in a heap. Magnus was at their side so quickly he looked like a blur. Everyone held a bated breath as he checked over the entangled bodies.

"They've gotten themselves out. I don't know how, but they have." Magnus looked astonished and bewildered. He heaved a great sigh and collapsed back into Alec's waiting arms.

**End note: They are out, but their troubles have only just begun. You'll find out more about that in the coming chapters though. Thanks again to my FANTASTIC Beta, GeeAnnaB. I know I say this all the time, but she really is the most rockin' chick this side of the Mississippi (though I suspect she lives on the opposite side of the Masson-Dixon line). Now, give my life a reason to go on- Review! Loved it, hated it? **

**PUSH THE BUTTON**

**Reviews are like hot words whispered in your ear. They send shivers down my spine and have an accompanying pleasant sensation ;]**


	7. Chapter 7: Not So Idle Threats

**A/N: Sorry it's been taking me so long to update. Between the Holidays, work, and then getting a rather bad case of food poisoning (damn rancid chicken) I've been out for the count. But I'm back. Hopeful on schedule from now on.**

It took them three weeks to recover.

Clary and Jace had shared a sick ward at the institute for that time, bickering and poking fun at each other as they always had. To those who looked on it would seem that things were the same as they always had been between the two, but Simon knew different. He could almost taste the change in their relationship, as if it were something to taste.

They had become even closer than before, if that were even possible, and Simon wasn't sure whether he should be happy for his best friend or hate her for it. His feelings were mixed, he knew. On one hand he was so happy to see her embracing her new life and being happy with the one that he knew she was meant for, but on the other hand it took almost losing her in a Hell dimension for him to realize that he really wasn't ready to start a new relationship with Isabelle, because he was still _so_ in love with Clary.

He knew that her relationship with Jace had become more intensely intimate, but he also knew they hadn't had sex. For one thing, they were both still too weak to do much of anything more than get up and go to the bathroom (and even then they needed help getting back into bed). However, something had changed. They were so… _in tune _with each other that it was scary. It was like they knew exactly what the other was thinking or feeling. No one was fully aware of the details of what had happened when they had been trapped, but Simon just _knew_ that something had changed.

He heard footsteps padding quietly across the floor and could tell that Clary had gotten out of her bed. She took six steps and then there was a rustling of blankets and a soft giggle and he knew that she had climbed into Jace's bed again.

He knew that it was sick listening in on them, but he had done it enough the last three weeks to know that they weren't doing anything. Still, the thought of her being so damn happy with him made Simon's stomach clench as if he were going to be sick.

From the hallway he could hear Jace's voice, soft enough that no other human ears could have heard except for those intended, but Simon wasn't human anymore, a fact that he would forever be aware of.

"You remember the day that I got shot with that arrow…"

Simon imagined he could see Clary's eyes rolling in her head as she replied, "Yeah. I couldn't forget that if I tried."

Jace chuckled and then cleared his throat, "Do you remember what I asked you right before I lost my mind?"

There was a silence. Simon had no idea what they were talking about. Apparently neither did Clary. She remained silent in what Simon could only imagine was a raised eyebrow expression as she waited for him to elaborate.

To Simon's horror he explained.

"You never answered me when I asked you if you would marry me."

There was a pause and Simon could hear Clary moving, presumable pulling away so she could look Jace in the eyes as he spoke. "I thought you were just asking that because you thought we were going to die."

"Well," he said clearing his throat again, "We're not dead, and I'm still asking."

There was another long pause. It was so long that Simon almost believed that she would say no. But then there was another rustle of the covers and the clicking of an object being opened followed by a sharp intake of breath.

With one simple word, Simon felt as if his heart was being ripped out of his chest all over again.

"Yes."

**~o.O.o~**

It was really strange being able to sense Jace so fully. Clary had always had a hard time reading him, but now he could keep nothing from her. She knew every thought he had ever had, every feeling he had tried to hide. The only explanation for it could only be that something had changed them when they collided in that place. Clary thought she had it figured out.

Magnus had told them that the poison had trapped their minds in a Hell dimension, leaving their bodies behind, sort of like empty shells, but Clary had been there. It was more than just her mind that had been held captive. It was her soul. That was what most people missed.

When a person gets sent to Hell it's where their soul goes, not just their mind. That place was an abyss of lonesomeness and she had found Jace there. Her theory was that when they touched and the world exploded, some of her soul was left with his and some of his with her.

She had no idea how long they stayed like that, locked to each other as one mind, sharing all thoughts and feelings as the dimension they were in fell to nothing. It could have been a moment or an eternity, but soon her bliss was ripped away and she felt pain tearing into her body as Jace was pulled away from her. Being separated from him made her sad. For a short time their souls had been intertwined and there was serenity. It felt almost divine.

With this new ability to know Jace, there was something dark attached to her too. Something sinister that crept into her soul. There were moments when she could see another place without leaving the spot where she sat. It wasn't as if she were thinking of that place and envisioning herself being there, but rather that she was seeing a place through someone else's eyes while she sat there, experiencing their thoughts and feelings, and she could do nothing to stop it.

She had no idea where these thoughts came from, or if the visions were merely a gift from the angel, but whatever it was, it was taking her to places where she watched as innocent people were murdered. _Watched_, she scoffed. _I am the one killing these people_.

She knew the thought wasn't true because she never left her bed while all these scenes played before her mind's eyes.

She watched from the attacker's point of view. It _felt_ like she was the one committing these acts. Where had these visions come from, and why would the angel give them to her when there was no way to stop them? She wasn't sure how she knew, but something told her without even a shadow of uncertainty that these were not visions of the future, but visions of things happening in the instant she saw them.

**~o.O.o~**

Simon was sulking. He hadn't left his room for three days and his mini-fridge was quickly running out of drinkable blood. His phone blared and he looked down to see Alec's number flash across his screen. _Weird_, he thought. _Alec never calls me_. He answered on the second ring and put the receiver to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Simon, this is Alec," the boy on the other end of the line began.

"Really," Simon replied in mock interest. Sarcastically he added, "I had no idea. The name on my caller ID said Alec, but I wasn't sure, because in this day and age you can never tell."

"Don't be a jackass Simon," Alec snapped back. This surprised Simon. Normally Alec was the calm voice of reason. Today he sounded angry and on a warpath. "Now you listen _very_ closely because what I have to tell you might be the difference between you being happy and making my sister happy with you, or me killing you, slowly."

Simon remained silent. He knew better than to taunt an angry shadow hunter.

Alec took a deep breath as if trying to calm his anger. He then said, "You're the best thing that could have happened to my sister after Max died. She has relied on you and you just left her. You _won't _answer her calls or reply to her text messages. She thinks that you've gotten _tired_ of her, that she drove you away and that you don't want to see her anymore. She was getting better, you know! She was _almost _able to go back to living, but now…." his voice trailed off and he sighed.

Simon sat there with his mind buzzing a million miles an hour. He was upset about Clary, but he had never stopped to think about how unfair he was being to Isabelle. And he did love her. His feelings for Clary made seeing that hard sometimes, but he knew that it was true. With Clary it was like they say- "old habits die hard."

Simon closed the phone and jumped out his window into the freezing rain that had replaced the snow. He had been so stupid. Now he would have to do something equally as stupid to make it up to her.

**Post Script- Review! Like your life depends on it. Because, honestly one of your favorite characters may bite the dust if you dont. That's right. How's that for a not so idle threat? That's right bithches! Alec aint got nothing on me!**


	8. Chapter 8: Masking the Monster Within

**A/N: FF is a HUGE bitch today. This is the third time I've typed my authors note and I have given up doing it from the site- I'm putting it directly in the document. I'm frustrated, so I feel that I am going to be rushed in this.**

**As always, thank you all for your ongoing support. I love your reviews and they just make my face light up with joy when I realize I've gotten a new one. You are all like secret lovers. Ahhhhh**

**I also want to apologize to my Beta, GeeAnnaB. She doesn't agree with me on a certain cell phone issue, but I can't bring myself to change it. I'm working from Clary's tendency to think in more mundane terms, rather than magical ones…**

**I feel so bad. She's never steered me wrong. *dramatic sigh* I hope she forgives me. She gives my chaos order. Without her… the story would **_**be**_**, but it would be confusing and therefore suck. She rocks, no matter what.**

Jace could feel the tension running through Clary's shoulders. Though he could no longer read exactly what she was thinking, he could still feel her general moods. They had only just been declared strong enough to be released from the hospital ward and though he had spent every moment with her since the attack, he had yet to be annoyed by her. Most girls grated on his final nerve long before they had let two sentences pass their lips, but not Clary. She was always so interesting. Looking at her now, her hair a mess, no makeup and a starch white nightgown, he had never thought anyone had ever looked so beautiful. On her left hand was a small silver band with a rune engraved on the top.

It had taken him weeks to search down the exact rune that he wanted, knowing that it was one of the ones that the Silent Brothers wore. The rune for 'forever.' She recognized it immediately, of course, and tears had leaked down her face, realizing that he had truly meant that he wanted to marry her.

Jace knew that she could feel the sincerity of his thoughts, feel his undying love for her. And likewise he could feel her sureness when she said yes. He had thought that she would have had some reservations about agreeing to marry him. Being a mundane for so long, he would have thought that the idea of being engaged at such a young age would have made her want to wait before giving him an answer. He would have gladly waited. It didn't matter though, because she had said yes and they now sat on the couch in her bedroom, snuggling against each other, perfectly happy.

Well, mostly.

Something was nagging at Clary's mind. Jace wondered what it could possibly be.

"It's nothing," she said answering his unasked question. He knew she wasn't telling the truth and so mentally he rolled his eyes and waited for her to tell the truth.

"Alright. But only because I have no idea what's happening to me."

"What do you mean?" His mind raced with worry and he could sense that she was debating telling him after all. He turned her around in his lap so that he could see into her eyes. When she was facing him, however, he forgot all about his inquiries as she leaned in to kiss him, deeply and passionately. He could feel that she was still worried, but her thoughts were laced with something else. As she kissed him it was becoming impossible to tell where one mind ended and another began. She leaned into him, her small body pressed against his. His hands roamed her back, pressing her more firmly against him. She wanted something, he could tell. Her hands wound through his hair, intensifying the kiss. This felt nearly as close to what it was when it was just their essences mingling together before being ripped back into this dimension. Close, but not the same. He wanted to be closer. _She_ wanted to be closer. He knew what she wanted, could feel her mind begging him. Both of their breathing had quickened along with their heart rates. Her hands had moved to the hem of his t-shirt and were pulling it over his head. He _knew_ that this is what she wanted but he _had_ to ask.

"Are you sure?"

They sat up together and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her nightgown bunching at her hips.

"I'm sure about you," she said, raising her arms above her head. Swallowing hard, Jace's hands tentatively slid up the outside of her legs where the white material of her nightgown was gathered. He stayed his hands, looking into her eyes for any sign of doubt. Seeing none Jace kissed her with force and they spiraled into a divine oneness.

**~o.O.o~**

It had been weeks since Jace felt like he could sleep soundly. Since the awakening, he had been plagued with nightmares in which he was committing unthinkable acts. Before that he had to deal with psychic attacks. He woke up sometime late in the day, his arms around something soft and warm. The sun was pouring into the window and it warmed his cheeks. He didn't want to open his eyes.

He was having such a wonderful dream. _What a change_, he thought, _all I usually get are nightmares. _If only his dream could have been real. It felt real, and so perfect. Yet he had done nothing to deserve such perfection. The soft something in his arms moved. His eyes flashed open, and for a moment he was utterly blinded by the sunlight streaming through a vivid red filter. He blinked his eyes, and something soft fluttered down his face. When he reopened them, the red barrier was gone, and what remained was the outline of a red head.

Shock and happiness flooded through him. It hadn't been a dream. Clary's hand rested on the arm that was draped around her middle and on that hand was the fine silver band Jace had placed there after she said yes. He pulled her closer to him, and she sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering open slowly.

"Good morning," she greeted him sleepily. She smiled a half smile and looked at him with droopy eyes. Clary turned over and snuggled against his chest. Jace kissed the top of her head, breathing in the deep scent of her hair. Like coconut, honeysuckle and something bright, like gold, if gold had a smell.

"How do you feel?" Jace asked a little worried that she might regret last night.

"Sore," she replied, "But happy."

Jace breathed in deeply again letting his chest fill with joy. Her skin was smooth, not scarred like every other shadowhunter's.

"Ooooo," she groaned.

"What?" replied Jace, panicked, "What's the matter?" He could tell that she was dreading something. Some unknown evil. But her reply shocked him.

"I have to tell my mother that I'm getting married," she groaned again.

Jace chuckled. Her mother was still a shadowhunter. Unlike mundanes, it was not uncommon for people from Idris descent to get married at young ages. Seventeen was about the youngest that was acceptable, but he'd heard of younger.

After a moment of just lying there Clary asked, "Do you think we should get dressed?"

An hour later, after Clary had taken a shower and put on clean clothes, she emerged from her room, feeling hungry and peaceful. Last night had been so perfect on so many levels. She wasn't even really afraid of what her mother would say after having talked to Jace about it. She might not be happy, but she would let her make her own decisions. She headed towards the kitchen and ran into Alec.

He was wearing his customary black, but when he saw her his face split into a wide grin, "Congratulations, _sis." _

Clary blushed. She hadn't guessed that anyone else would know yet, but of course Alec would. He was Jace's best friend.

"I'm guessing that you're _not _going to let Isabelle cook for the wedding."

Clary giggled, embarrassed. Nothing had been decided. She felt a little trapped, not knowing what to say. And then- "Oh my god, Simon! I have to tell Simon!" She reached for her phone and began to dial his number, just as it rang. "Simon? I was just about to call you. I have something I have to tell you… Well the thing is that I'm getting married."

"Yea, I know," he replied through the receiver. She could hear his smile through the phone. His voice was laced with something false, but he was trying to be happy for her. "Isabelle just told me."

Without knowing why, Clary started to cry. "But you were the first person I've told. I wanted you to hear it from me." She sobbed. Just then, Jace came around the corner, and she turned on him, his smile fading as he read her face and sensed her anger and sadness. _"You!"_ she yelled. "What did you _do?_ Send out a mass text message? You told _every_one. This was my news too!" she cried and hung up the phone, headed for her room.

Jace chased after her. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she sobbed. "I should be glad that my best friend is happy for me. I just… I just…" her voice trailed off as she sobbed and Jace pulled her to his chest. He lowered his lips to her forehead and mumbled something.

"There are still four very important people that haven't been informed of our engagement. You can be the one to tell them, if you'd like."

"Your parents don't know?"

"And neither do Jocelyn and Luke. I meant to leave Simon for you too, but Isabelle has a big mouth."

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***In a deep, sultry voice* I like it when you push my buttons *waggles eyebrows suggestively***


	9. Chapter 9: State of Mind

Simon was waiting for Isabelle to walk through Central Park and meet him by the Faerie Court entrance. Large bodies of water were hazardous to vampire health, but it was essential to his plan to be there, standing at the end of the dock when she arrived.

"Simon," she called from the far shore.

"Over here," he yelled back. Even though he was far from where Isabelle stood, he could clearly see the anger on her face turn to a wide eyed stare of fear and worry.

"Simon, what are you doing? You're going to get killed," she screeched.

"Isabelle," he yelled back, "I know I upset you, and you have every right to hate me-"

"Damned straight," she spat.

"-but I made the biggest mistake of my life by shutting you out. I was being selfish when you needed me, and it may have cost me my friendship with you, and I couldn't stand if if that happened!"

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that _before_ you abandoned me and let me think that you hated me," she cried back.

In the fading light, Simon could see that she was about to cry and he knew how much she had been hurting. "Isabelle, I know 'sorry' doesn't begin to cover it. I know you've suffered and to make it up to you I'm going to suffer in a physical way. I am going to _swim_ all the way across this lake for you. If you still hate me when I get there then I'll leave you alone. Isabelle, you have to know that I never meant to hurt you. I love you."

Simon saw Isabelle freeze in shock. Her jaw dropped open and she let out a whoosh of breath, as if she had been punched in the stomach. She recovered quickly though, her shoulders squaring.

"You _what_?" She yelled, outraged.

"I love you, and I'm sorry that I hurt you so much." Before she could say a word of protest Simon dived into the Lake and was thankful that his mother had made him take swimming lessons as a child. His head felt like it would burst out of his skull and there was a searing pain across his whole body. _Thank__ heavens __it's not flowing_ water, he thought. _That's supposed to keep_ all _evil things from crossing…_

He reached the other side, gasping for air. A reflex. He was glad that the cold didn't affect him anymore, because as soon as his head broke the surface of the water his hair began to freeze. The outer most layer of his skin was raw as if the water had scraped it off. But despite all the pain he was in, it didn't matter. Isabelle had surged forward and was holding his weakened body in her arms, soaking her clothes.

"You _stupid_ vampire," she said. And then she was kissing him.

**~o.O.o~**

Clary was shaking with nerves. She could sense Jace's amusement in his mind and it sent a surge of anger through her system. This he found even more amusing and he stepped forward and took her hand, strengths flowing from his hand into her body. _I can do this_, she thought.

Maryse and Robert were already in the library when Clary and her family walked in. Jace followed behind them and came to stand at her side, taking her hand in his again. She was nervous, but excited too. _That must be Jace's emotions flowing into me, _she though._ If it were just me inside my head I would be_ dreading_ this._

Despite that knowledge, she was glad that some of Jace was wearing off on her. It made the task at hand seem easier. They situated themselves so that they were facing both sets of parents. Maryse looked as if she were trying to hide a smile. She seemed to already be in on the surprise. _Isabelle,_ Clary thought acidly.

Luke also looked as if he was waiting to hear something, and he seemed to be expecting what it was.

"So it looks like half of you already know why we're here," said Clary. "But it still has to be said. Mom, I wanted to be the one to tell you… Jace and I are getting married."

Jocelyn's reaction was every bit as horrifying as Clary thought it would be. Her eyes bulged and looked like they were going to pop out of her head. They then seemed to zero in on the ring as her face turned a spectacular shade of crimson. Clary thought it was going to be bad, but she had never accounted for her mother's conclusion to this sudden engagement.

"_You're pregnant, aren't you_?" She bellowed at her daughter. Her face turned pale and its usual beauty was masked by a rage that would have frightened a greater demon. She launched forward and advanced on Jace as if she were going to strangle him.

Jace, who was right beside Clary, was trying not to burst out laughing as Luke grabbed Jocelyn around the middle and pulled her away from Clary.

Her eyes were swimming and she felt her face turning splotchy as she screamed back, "No Mom! I'm not. I _thought _you would be happy for me, but-" her voice cut off as if something were choking her.

Jace watched as Clary's eyes glazed over unseeing of what was happening around her. Her face slackened and paled and he could feel her fear and something else… enjoyment. But that didn't make any sense. Without warning, she threw her head back and let out a scream so piercing that all of the tension from a moment ago was forgotten. Clary fell and Jace reached out to catch her. Jocelyn surged forward, worry traced in every line on her face as another cry escaped her daughter's lips. And then there was silence.

Clary watched as a young couple kissed in the park. The boy was soaking wet and beginning to show the first telltale signs of frostbite. The girl had long sweeping black hair that hung as a curtain, dividing her sight from where the viewer lurked. She floated silently closer to the couple readying herself for the moment to pounce. This was going to be almost too easy. The boy was weak and the girl… well the girl would be fun to get inside. With any luck, she would be the last soul needed to be taken in order to become completely corporeal.

With that thought Clary lunged forward, swarming around her victims. Surprisingly, the girl did not scream as the others had. She jumped up quickly into a fighting stance. _This may be more fun that I thought, _She commented inside her own head. The boy got up too, panting hard, though he stood tall and ready. Clary viewed this, wondering if it would be wise to take these souls.

They were strong- enough to bring solidity to the form that she was in- but were they too strong? _Too late to turn back now_, she thought. Deciding to attack the weak one, Clary's form flew towards the boy's chest. Summoning all the stored energy that had been shocking him for an eternity in the otherworld he released all he had left into the boy. It should have killed him. He screamed and fell, but did not die.

Clary's vision was starting to fade. She could sense that she was no longer with the creature in central park, but she held on to it as long as she could. She needed details. Whatever was attacking her friends was no mere demon. It was far more sinister in origin and a nagging feeling told her that there was a reason for her connection to the creature.

Jace knew now that whatever had been worrying Clary before was related to what had just happened. The fear was familiar. He looked down into her eyes as they came back into focus. She was paler that usual, but her face was hard with determination.

She looked at everyone in the room and said very clearly, "We have to get to central park. Something is attacking Isabelle and Simon," and looking at Jace added, "and it came from the hell dimension we were trapped in."

Jace sucked in a breath and stood up, lifting Clary in his arms, and took off running down the hall towards the weapons room closely followed by Jocelyn, Luke, and Maryse. Robert did not stop to get weapons, he just ran out the door, pulling daggers from under his jacket.

"How do you know that?" asked Mayrse, sharply.

"I saw it from-" she never finished saying where she saw it from, but Jace knew. _My dreams. She saw it from the killer's point of view, just like in the nightmares. _

"Did you say it came with you out of that hell dimension?" Luke looked stricken, as if he had information that was disturbing him.

"Yeah," Clary replied. "I don't even really know how we got out; let alone how something else did too."

Luke released a breath, his brow furrowing. "I may have a theory about that, but there's no time to explain now," he said grabbing a battle-axe. Jace set Clary down gingerly.

"Are you alright? Will you be okay to stay here yourself?" he asked worriedly. To his surprise, Clary looked at him as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Grabbing two seraph blades and shoving them into her belt she replied, "I know _exactly_ where this attack is taking place. I'm coming with you." She looked up at Jace with a look so intense that he felt like she would incinerate him with her eyes if he declined her.

Knowing better than to refuse her, Jace took out his stele and drew a rune for endurance on her shoulder. "This should help you move easier. You look like you're dead on your feet." He kissed her softly where he had burned her skin with the mark and then again on her lips. Jace felt her desire, presumably thinking of last night, but knew that this was not the time. There was an evil waiting for them- the likes of which had never before been comprehended in this dimension.

**A/N: I know it's been a while since the last update. I am going to work on making it less sporadic! As always, thanks to my wonderful Beta, GeeAnnaB. She's fabulous.**

**Now you know what you must do- Keep me motivated! Reviews are like orgasms- It feels good when you hit the button ;) ^^ **


	10. Chapter 10: Dried Out

**A/N: I know- its been months and I have gotten MANY PM's asking when I was going to do more. I've actually had this chapter for ages... Now I have to go and beg my Beta to continue beta-ing for me. I think she thinks I have dropped off of the face of the earth. **

**Since it has been a while- recap: Simon and Isabelle have been attacked in Central Park. Clary knows this from a vision. **

**Without further ado...**

They all filed out of the Institute in a rush only a minute or two behind Robert. Silently, they all ran swiftly in the early evening air. The rain had stopped, leaving a moist feeling in the atmosphere and a crisp smell, something uncommon in New York City. They reached the park within minutes and followed behind Clary. Jace watched from behind as she pulled out her seraph blade and named it, his own avenging angel.

Isabelle was already lashing at the creature with her whip with such force that when it hit the ground, deep gashes were left in the grass. Despite the ferociousness of her swing, she never made contact with the creature. Robert stood at her other side, daggers in hand, synchronizing his moves with his daughter's, trying to find a weakness in the being's maneuvering, but to no avail.

Simon lay on the ground, clutching his chest, breathing hard. Without hesitation, Clary ran forward, dodging Isabelle's whip and slid to a stop by Simon's side.

The creature was momentarily distracted by Clary's sudden appearance, letting it stand still for just a moment too long. Isabelle's aim lay true into the side of the being, but where her whip had struck, the creature turned to smoke and disappeared.

In the same moment that Isabelle's whip grazed the creature, Clary let out a yelp of pain, blood blossoming over her shirt in the exact spot that the creature had been hit. With the demon thing's disappearance, the group gathered around Isabelle, Simon, and Clary.

Jace noticed several things at once: Simon's face was beat red as if all the blood had rushed to his face; there was no hole in Clary's shirt, but she was obviously wounded somehow; and Isabelle was silently crying.

~O. o. O~

Simon lay in the same sick bed that Clary had inhabited just a few days ago. He could faintly smell the scent of her hair, but not as strongly as usual. Luke had gathered everyone into the hall outside the ward, while Magnus was sent in to examine him.

His chest still heaved with difficulty. A horrible squeezing sensation gripped his chest as if someone were sitting on him_. Makes sense_, he thought. _The creature reached through my body and grabbed at the old ticker_. Even though it hadn't been beating, it still hurt like hell. Now, it was excruciating.

Looking up at Magnus, he saw a look that sent a thrill of dread through his body.

Magnus, who was always so sure of what to do, looked utterly bewildered.

Simon stared down at the mark on his arm. Clary had been weak the day she had given it to him, but she wanted him to be closer to her, to be able to visit while she recovered, so she had Alec carry her outside. Isabelle's idea had been a stroke of pure genius and it was because of her that he could walk back on sacred ground, and now, for some reason unbeknownst to him, he was afraid that he might lose her.

Magnus scratched his spiky head, glitter sprinkling the floor where his hand trailed back to his side. "Don't move, Fangs. I'll be right back," he told him. Simon was further alarmed_. If Magnus needed something to treat him he could just conjure it. Why would he have to leave?_

_~O. o. O.~_

"I need to know everything that happened after you lost consciousness when you were poisoned with that arrow," Magnus demanded as soon as the door behind him was closed. His eyes glinted in a fierce way that worried Clary.

Jace spoke up. "We entered this place… like an abyss. There was no light except these sparks, and every time I moved, pain would be so intense that my entire being writhed in agony. I looked down to see what it was, and that's when I knew that my body wasn't wherever I was-"

"Yes, I know all that," Magnus snapped. "I know that it ensnares your mind and torments it."

Clary watched him shift impatiently. Before she even made a conscience decision to speak she was blurting out "But it wasn't just our minds- it was more along the lines of tormenting our souls."

Magnus's eyes widened so large Clary was reminded of the Cheshire cat. "And were there others there?"

"Yes," Jace said slowly. "But their light was dimmer. I couldn't see them until I reached Clary and I told her that she wasn't alone. She glowed brighter and then we touched and…" he paused, only for an instant.

Clary was only aware because she was super sensitiveof his feelings. He didn't want to tell them about their union. Clary couldn't blame him. He was always so private around other people, and this was more than personal.

"…And everything exploded."

"That explains how they got out," said Luke quietly. It was the first time he had said anything since they arrived back at the Institute. Then Clary remembered what he said just before they left to rescue Simon and Isabelle.

"You said you had a theory about why I was seeing these things."

"Yes, in fact-"

"That doesn't matter right now," snarled Magnus. "We have more pressing matters to attend to. Like, why your friend Simon's heart is beating again."

There was an utter silence. Shock filled Clary to the point that she thought she might faint. It wasn't possible. Simon was undead. His heart _did not _beat. _He can go out into the sunlight_, her mind argued_. And that shouldn't be possible either_. And then she knew what had happened.

"I know what it was thinking! I know what it was trying to do." Her voice was less steady than she would have thought it would be. Her heart beat furiously as she relived her vision. "He was trying to gain form. He was… incorporeal?"

"He was still in his spirit form," replied Luke firmly. "When you two came back, you had bodies waiting for you; but who knows how long this entity was in that dimension being tormented in God knows how many horrible ways. He was trying to get enough living energy to make his own body."

"Yes," replied Clary faintly. Her ears were buzzing with what sounded like a thousand honeybees. "He was killing people so that he could become whole. Simon and Isabelle were to be his last victims."

"Do you know how he was going to kill them? This is important Clary." Magnus looked at her sharply. "Try to remember."

"He was going to use the energy that he gained in the hell dimension." Everyone looked lost except for Jace so she explained. "We were shocked. Repeatedly. I think he must have found a way to store all of the shock energy and reverse it on other people somehow."

"And it would have killed anyone else, but on Simon because he's technically already dead it worked as a supernatural defibrillator." Isabelle, who had been standing silently in the corner, looked sharply up at Magnus's words.

"So he's alive," she asked, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

"I don't know what the effectswill be," replied Magnus with grim seriousness, "His heart hasn't beat in months. It takes vampires about a year for all of their organs to essentially dry out inside them. That's why they need blood to sustain them. His system hasn't died completely. You have to understand that what is flowing though his veins is… not as fluid as it should be in order for his heart to function properly… the blood is too thick and it's making his heart sluggish and it was already weak to begin with." He paused taking a breath and saying the words that everyone could almost feel coming. "If his heart stops now that it has restarted, I have no idea if he will survive."

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